So I’m finally employed. That puts a strike in the pros column of life. I’ve only been there two weeks but so far so good. I won’t go in to detail about what I do and where I work. But it’s a rewarding job to say the least. I’m a cog in a machine as they say. One day I’ll be the machine. I’m currently adapting to the wicked ways a 9-5 takes up most of my time. Factor the hour spent getting to work and the hour coming home. That just usually leaves me exhausted and not feeling very creative. The past few days however I’ve been good and put fingers to keyboard trying to churn out my thoughts and ideas.

I thought once I got this job I would spend my time wishing I was unemployed again. Penning blog posts from a library or Starbucks and watching the day go by. Seeing the men in suits scuttling about town trying to get from A to B to C then back to A. Now I’m one of those guys. It’s an interesting feeling to see it from both sides. Although I have no time to lounge in Starbucks and listen to people’s conversations about Princess Diana or their cat.

I had to undergo a wardrobe overhaul. Shirt and trousers are the required dress code of my office therefore I put in a visit to Primark, Next, Marks and Spencer’s and even Burton. New coat shirts, new belt, new coat and new shoes. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and everything just hit me. I’m getting old. Gone are the days of my baggy t-shirts and baggy jeans. Colourful hoodies and New Era caps (Yeah I was one of those guys). Even my sense in footwear has smartened up. Brown boots, black vans and black brogues. No hats unless its a beanie, otherwise my balding head is on full show. The worst part is I don’t even care if people see that I’m losing my hair.

The best part about getting old is that I have someone to get old with. And truthfully I wouldn’t change that for anything. The only direction I’m moving is forwards. A wise man once said “Don’t look at it as getting older, look at it as getting better.” Indeed sir, indeed.

Thank you for your interest in _________________, UK. At _____________ we believe that as much as the candidate has to be right for us, the role has to be right for you. Ensuring that there is a firm match is important to your career and your wellbeing as well as our continued business success.

We have had the opportunity to review your application and regret to inform you that on this occasion, we have chosen to pursue other candidates whose skills and experience more closely match the role.

Again, we genuinely appreciate your interest in _________________.

Kind regards,

Alex.

All of people are familiar with these types of emails. As writers we probably receive emails like these constantly. I know I do. Everyone usually has the same advice for receiving rejection letters/emails.

“Just keep trucking on.”

“At least people are reading it”

“Keep sending stuff out, you’re on the right path.”

“Don’t be disheartened.”

All good advice I must admit but sometimes it does feel like I am cracking my head against a brick wall, or walking down a never-ending path of rejection. But then again I might not be. I guess the beauty of life is the mystery that awaits us around the corner. Even though we see clearly, we see nothing at all. I guess the whole point is to be optimistic. Most people that know me, know that I’m more of a cynic disguised as a ‘realist’.

Therefore I’m heading out to buy the biggest bottle of champagne I can find. It’ll be on ice for now, but you’ll be the first to know when it’s being cracked open and spilled all over my fancy clothes.

Until then I’ll celebrate that every day I wake up with the will and ability to write. I’ll celebrate by doing what I feel I do best.

This is a public service announcement to the gamers of the world. Beware! GTA V is upon us and there is no turning back!

Thank You,

Greg J Allman.

“It’s clear where you’re priorities lie Kyle, I’ve had enough.”

“Sandra please, just let me explain.”

“Explain what Kyle that you’re a thoughtless, mindless pig of a man!”

“Well yeah, but I love you.”

“Well it’s too late for that now, goodbye Kyle. Try not to waste life playing these games forever.” Sandra slammed the front door. He sure was going to miss her. He sat on the top step and listened as the car sped off. This had been what he’d been crying out for all day. Now that he had it, he wished he could trade it in.

Kyle was a sensible man; nine times out of ten he did the right thing. He treated his girlfriend well and they’d had a loving relationship for over two years now. But he had a weakness, just like every man. Kyle did his utmost to fight against it. But tonight he was surrendering to its ultimate power. He couldn’t fight it anymore. Nor did he want to.

“Well you don’t have a fever” Sandra placed her palm on his forehead.

“It’s my stomach. I’m sure it was that place last night.” Kyle moaned.

“Gary gave it rave reviews babe, it couldn’t have been there.”

“Oh yeah Gary knows all, all bow down to Gary.”

“Kyle stop. You sound like a petulant child” her voice was firm.

“I’m actually a very sick child, who would like to be excused from tonight’s dinner party.”

“And I will be, after the dinner party. I’ll be accompanyin’ my princess to the ball” Kyle smiled. His cheek always served him well with Sandra.

“Hmm, you better not be pullin’ a fast one on me Kyle” she warned.

“I’m not” he surrendered his hands.

“My colleagues were lookin’ forward to meetin’ you at this.”

“Tell them I will see them at the after party. Champagne’s on me.”

Kyle got out of the bed and took a hold of Sandra. Tonight was her special night. Her 21st birthday, and she wanted to make sure the proceedings went off without a hitch. Kyle knew how important tonight was to her. It was all she spoke about when they went out for dinner the night before. Kyle was never fond of Lebanese and that was confirmed when he woke up with the toilet for company this morning. Sandra’s supervisor and all round creep Gary had suggested. Kyle had met him once before, although he claimed to be married no-one had ever met his wife. Plus he was a very tactile person, especially at social events. He’s the balding man in a silk white shirt at parties casually resting his palm on someone half his age’s waist.

“You promise you’re comin’ out after.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world babe. You know that” Kyle reassured her.

“Ok, make sure you take some medicine before you leave. You’re shirt’s ironed, so is the suit” Sandra pointed over at his wardrobe.

“Ok.”

“Make sure you do that top button up as well. I don’t wanna see you lookin’ like you’ve come out the office” Sandra moaned.

Sandra skipped out of the room and hustled down the stairs. Kyle waited by his bedroom door until he heard the front door close. He hurried to his window and saw Sandra get in Gary’s car with a load of her colleagues and speed off.

Kyle leapt in to the air with admiration and joy. Tonight hadn’t only been an important night for Sandra; it was an important night for Kyle too. He thought he carried his plan out perfectly faking a sickness from last night’s restaurant but it only kept Sandra at his side all day. Until now. Kyle’s day officially started at 9:05AM when the postman delivered a package for him. He wasted little time opening it and unveiling its contents. GTA V. He had marked this day on his calendar for months, and finally at 18:57 he was able to get the game underway. All night his imagination ran wild over all the in game action he would be experiencing. Parachuting out of aeroplanes, robbing banks and stealing cars, nothing and no-one was going to put a stop to this, he had waited too long. He switched on his XBOX and slotted the game in the disc tray. Kyle could feel his blood pumping under his skin. His mobile vibrated on his bed, he checked the screen. Sandra sent him a smiley face message. He threw his phone back on the bed. His screen lit up showing the opening credits to the game. Kyle selected which character he wanted to start with. It was a tossup between Michael the middle aged gangster going through a mid life crisis or Franklin, the gangbanger. He went with Michael. The opening credits to Michael’s scenario began, Kyle’s eyes were glued to the television, he reached over for his remote and cranked up the volume. His mobile vibrated, he felt around his bed before putting his hand on it. Another message, this time asking where he is, he messaged back in bed with a thousand kisses. He was sick of the interruptions; he was missing important plot points to the game.

Finally the actual game play started he was in the middle of a bank robbery with Michael’s character. His hands were shaking in excitement; the realism of the world created in this game was astonishing. Kyle had never seen anything like it. This was better than any birthday dinner, even better than sex with the woman he loved. Nothing beat GTA V on a quiet evening in. Kyle became so lost in the game that he didn’t hear the tyres screeching outside his home, or the front door opening and slamming shut. He didn’t hear the footsteps hurrying up the stairs and he certainly didn’t hear his bedroom door open.

“What on Earth are you playin’ at?”

“Huh” Kyle dropped the controller in shock.

“You said you were sick, you lyin’ bastard!” Sandra screamed.

“No, I am really. I just thought”

“Oh save it Kyle.” She reached over to the bed and picked up her phone. “I left it here” she said holding it up.

“Babe, I’ll get dressed I’ll come to dinner” Kyle moaned.

“No Kyle, just leave me alone.”

Footsteps thundered on the stairs and Gary emerged at the doorway.

“Ay up Kyle! Heard you weren’t feelin’ too clever.”

“Oh he’s fine, he just wanted to stay in and play his video games. Instead of celebrating my 21st. What a man eh” Sandra’s words cut him deep.

“Video games? How old are you now mate?” Gary asked.

Kyle let out a sigh “Gary can you leave us please.”

Gary tapped his watch at Sandra angering Kyle even more.

“Gary please, get out.”

“Ok, calm down Kylie boy.”

“Don’t speak to Gary that way” Sandra defended him. “Anyway we’re leavin’ now. Don’t bother turnin’ up later.” Sandra followed Gary down the stairs. Kyle stood at the top of the stairs in his pyjama bottoms.

“Sandra please, just wait.”

Gary disappeared out the front door. Sandra stood on the door step and looked back at Gary. Her mascara was running from the tears.

“It’s clear where you’re priorities lie Kyle, I’ve had enough.”

“Sandra please, just let me explain.”

“Explain what Kyle that you’re a thoughtless, mindless pig of a man!”

“Well yeah, but I love you.”

“Well it’s too late for that now, goodbye Kyle. Try not to waste life playing these games forever.”

My initial reaction was to give up my sense of smell. I sort of came to that conclusion rather easily and quickly. Simply because I am not a baker or chef. Although I love food, I feel like that I would love it more if I didn’t have the ability to smell it. I know it sounds ridiculous becasue the aroma of a dish plays a huge part in someone’s personal taste for it. But I seem to constantly find myself saying “Something smells” and not in a positive way. Just imagine all the things you wish you could un-smell. For example when my mum cooks mushrooms. The smell lingers in the kitchen for a while before deciding to explore the rest of the house. The smell reminds me of when you burp and a trace bile shoots up your throat. For a split second you think you’re gonna vomit. From giving up my sense of smell, I no longer get asked to check if dairy products are “still good” or to see if my little nephew has soiled himself.

I guess there are some negatives, for example I am a profuse sweater. Like seriously it does not take a lot for me to start pouring from my pores. I get the tube (London Underground) nearly every morning and every morning I step out with a full bodied sweat. So that always leads to me finding the nearest public toilet to re-lynx myself and step out smelling of roses…or whatever random scent I have in my bag. Not being able to smell smelly people is a huge plus, but not being able to smell myself is scary. I get the feeling I would end up spraying myself every two hours just to be on the safe side. Another pitfall is not being able to smell my farts. Now before you throw up in your mouths hear me out. All men let off in public, the same way they need to in the privacy of their living room or bedroom. The only difference is they need to be more discreet. Sometimes I can tell when a fart will smell, but there are occasions when my girlfriend disgustingly asks me “Did you fart?” and I embarrassingly answer yes. The thought of being on the tube or in a lift and letting one out that clearly smells like a gym sock that’s been microwaved terrifies me. Also it leaves me open for an attack similar to that of Sideshow Bob’s when he married Selma.

Can you smell that?

But for giving up my sense of smell I would be in receipt of a a super sense. That sense will be hearing. I have a tendency to wear headphones or earphones at the best of times and therefore I switch off to everything else around me. With a super sense of hearing I could blast out the finest DMX barks and growls all the while listening to my parents ramble on about their plans to move out of London. Also think of the times you’ve wanted to eavesdrop on a conversation but had to disguise your listening with playing music. With this heightened sense you could become the next Perez Hilton within a week with all the information you’d obtain.

There are some pitfalls with my new super strength ears however. Firstly I’m unfortunate enough to still have to ride the bus every now and then. Usually at times where school kids are littered all over the street. Having to listen to all of their conversations in detail would leave me wishing for bigger headphones. The conversations these school kids have is reminiscent of a bad episode of Top Boy or a conversation with an under educated rapper. A second pitfall (as if the first one wasn’t bad enough) would be the wails, screams and cries of babies. I have a nephew (who’s nappy I won’t be smelling) that cries morning, noon and night. His currently perfecting his tenor range while he’s still young. There’s definitely a place for him on the stage when he’s older.

It’s hard to determine if I’m winning or losing in this scenario. I’ll let you be the judge of that!